


Panic Room

by simplyollie



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Trans Character, Coming Out, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matteo Deserves a Hug, Self-Harm, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyollie/pseuds/simplyollie
Summary: Love, Matteo decided, fucking hurt.It grabbed you by the heart, promised to be gentle and kind, and then ripped it out and ran away, leaving you to die slowly and painfully while everyone else was oblivious to the pain.And Matteo was done. He was just done.or, an alternative reaction to David’s text message that leads to his roommates and friends finding out that Matteo isn’t okay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know why I’m hurting him more than the show already is, but I hope you enjoy reading this nice dose of angst as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING; this does deal with self harm and possible suicidal thoughts—none of it is graphic but if this kind of thing triggers you please don’t read it and stay safe lovelies!!

Love, Matteo decided, fucking hurt.

 

It grabbed you by the heart, promised to be gentle and kind, and then ripped it out and ran away, leaving you to die slowly and painfully while everyone else was oblivious to the pain.

 

_Please leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you._

 

_Please leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you._

 

_Please leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you._

 

_Please. Please. Please._

 

It played on a loop in his head and he couldn’t get it to stop. No matter how far he walked, how many things he kicked and threw, how many times he covered his ears to block it out. It never stopped. It never stopped and Matteo just wanted the world to be quiet for once. But it couldn’t, could it? Because if it wasn’t those heart breaking words, it was the way David’s lips felt on his. The way he had run his hands through his hair and stared at him like nobody else ever had. Like he was worth something—like he was worth _everything_. But of course he wasn’t, he never was, was he? Matteo Florenzi was incapable of being loved.

 

Because it wasn’t just David, was it? It was his mom and dad, his friends (Jonás), his flatmates (Hans), and anybody he could feel himself growing close to. It was like every time Matteo felt himself growing closer to people, breaking down his walls slightly, feeling even the smallest bit _okay_ —the world decided to rip that rug out from under his feet. He wasn’t even sure he was affected by it at this point—the world didn’t want him to be happy, it was as simple as that. The world wanted him to live in nothing but pain, sadness, and numbness. It wanted him to feel everything or nothing all at once. It wanted him to live with little hope and little love. It wanted him to suffer.

 

And Matteo was done. He was just done.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hans, Mia, and Linn had been sitting in the kitchen when Matteo got back home.

 

Linn, who had been in a considerably good mood for the past few days, had decided she wanted to cook again. Despite how late it was, Hans hadn’t objected and had happily joined her, Mia appearing not too long later with her laptop in tow to “study in a more open space.”

 

They all heard when Matteo got home. He slammed the front door open and closed and stormed straight into his room. There was some stomping around, a few things thrown and an angry scream before everything went quiet. And despite Matteo’s hurtful words from earlier, Hans couldn’t help but worry about the boy. What could have happened to change his mood so suddenly?

 

“Is he okay?” Mia asked, closing her laptop.

 

Linn shrugged her shoulders, stuffing some more food into her mouth. “Probably forgot about an exam or something.”

 

Hans furrowed his brows, leaning forward slightly to see if he could hear anything else. “I don’t know, guys, he’d been in a really good mood maybe 30 minutes ago.”

 

Mia opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a loud and broken sob, followed by the door being ripped open and Matteo entering the kitchen. He didn’t stay long, simply stormed in, grabbed something from the counter and stormed back out, locking himself in the bathroom. Hans could only stare at the counter in shock before Linn’s shaking voice broke him into action.

 

“Did…did he just take a knife?”

 

The three scrambled to their feet, sprinting towards the bathroom. Hans pushed and pulled on the door, despite already knowing it was going to be locked. He knocked frantically, calling out to Matteo.

 

“Matteo, please open the door, butterfly.” When he got no response, he jiggled with the lock, leaving his head against the cool surface. “Matteo please, come outside and we can figure out what’s wrong, ja?”

 

The only sound that reached Hans’ ears was a quiet whimper, cutting off almost as soon as it sounded. Hans punched the door angrily, turning towards Mia and Linn who were standing there helplessly.

 

“Does one of you have a bobby pin or something?”

 

Mia nodded, quickly running to her room and appearing back a few seconds later—bobby pins in hand. With shaking fingers, she was able to jimmy the pin into the lock, receiving a satisfactory click several seconds later.

 

Hans didn’t hesitate to practically pull the door off its hinges as he sprinted into the bathroom, all the air leaving his lungs as he took in the sight before him. Mia gasped, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth while the other one gripped Linn’s.

 

Matteo sat in the bathtub, knees drawn to his chest an arm cradled protectively between them. The knife—small but sharp—was discarded to the side, droplets of crimson blood falling from it and staining the tub. Matteo’s face was pale, stained with tears and smeared with blood—blood that was coming from the three deep gashes in his arm.

 

Hans stepped forward on shaking legs, sitting down in the bathtub beside Matteo and taking his arm in his hands. There was a lot of blood, enough to be concerning but not enough to warrant stitches.

 

Without taking eyes off Matteo, Hans addresses the others. “Mia, hand me the hand towel, will you? Linn, can you go and grab the first aid supplies, and Mia I want you to call Jonás, ja?”

 

The girls followed his instructions in silence, neither venturing too far as they watched. Hans had the towel wrapped tightly around Matteo’s arm, waiting for the blood to slow down enough for him to clean the wounds and wrap them up. Matteo hadn’t offered any sort of response beyond more tears and near silent sniffles, but Hans knew he was going to have to get him to talk, and now was a good a time as ever.

 

“Butterfly, look at me,” Hans instructed, tapping Matteo’s cheek lightly. “Have you done this before?”

 

A tired nod in response.

 

“Oh baby,” Hans whispered, feeling his own eyes well up. “Why wouldn’t you talk to us, you know you can talk to us.”

 

Matteo shook his head, his breathing picking up slightly as more tears slipped down his cheeks. “No–nobody cares,” it was a broken whisper followed by a sob. “Nobody cares—there’s no point…t-t-there’s no point…he doesn’t–he doesn’t love me, Hans, he doesn’t want me.”

 

Matteo dissolved into sobs and all Hans could do was hold him and whisper over and over that they do care, they care _so so much_.

 

By the time Jonás had shown up, Hans had already wrapped Matteo’s arm in thick gauze, though they hadn’t moved. Matteo was leaning his head tiredly on Hans’ shoulder as they sat in the bathtub, Linn and Mia sat a few feet away on the bathroom floor, watching the scene with glassy eyes. Jonás didn’t even bother knocking or buzzing, simply barged into the apartment, his breathing erratic and his eyes full of fear. He didn’t say anything at first, simply kneeled in front of the tub and took Matteo’s unharmed hand in his, stroking his thumb soothingly over Matteo’s knuckles.

 

After several seconds of silence, Jonás sighed, turning to Hans. “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know,” Hans admitted. “He was so happy when I talked to him last, and then he left the house for a while and when he came back he locked himself in his room. Started throwing shit and screaming, then he came out to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and locked himself in here. Cut himself three times on the wrist—it was scary, but the cuts weren’t very deep and the bleeding slowed down after 5 or so minutes.”

 

Jonás wiped at his eyes, shaking his head and leaning it against Matteo’s hand. “He was doing so good, he hasn’t done this in a while.”

 

“This is a regular thing?” Mia whispered, clutching Linn’s hand tightly.

 

Jonás nodded, “it _was_. He started a little before his dad left, but he hasn’t done it in months. I know he’s been off lately, but something must’ve triggered this tonight.”

 

“David,” Hans whispered in realisation, earning a confused look from Jonás and whimper from Matteo. “Matteo, what happened with David?”

 

Matteo shook his head, his hand gripping Jonás’ tightly. “He doesn’t want me…h-he said he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

 

“Why, what happened?” Jonás asked, despite not knowing who this was and what was going on.

 

Matteo was crying again, his chest contracting with silent sobs. “He kissed me and it was s-so nice, I really like him…I love him…but he told me he doesn’t like me.”

 

Mia and Linn were crying and Hans tightened his grip around Matteo. “Butterfly, tell me you didn’t do this because of David.”

 

Matteo shook his head, though he still hadn’t stopped crying.

 

Jonás was also shaking his head. “Nein, David was just the tipping point, he’s probably been feeling like this for a while.”

 

“‘m tired,” Matteo mumbled. “Can I sleep?”

 

“Ja, Butterfly,” Hans whispered, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s just get you to your room and you can sleep, okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Matteo drifted, unsure what was real and what was simply a dream. Not knowing which was more painful—reality or dream. On one hand, dreaming of David was pleasant—his perfectly dark skin, soft lips and equally soft hair, his flawless eyelashes which Matteo had made sure David knew he was extremely jealous of. On the other hand, reality was a punch to the gut—Jonás laying by his side, bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days, Hans’ hushed and scared whispers about mental health, the fact that David wasn’t there. That David never would be there, never again. He was never awake for more than five minutes, but each time he opened his bleary eyes someone was there with him. More often than not, it was Jonás, but there were a few times when Hans or Mia were there, watching him like he would explode at any moment. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he just numbly stared at the ceiling or wall, unsure what he should be feeling and wondering when he would feel something.

 

When he woke up the next time, he was alone. He could hear voices outside his room, talking low but still loud enough for Matteo to catch small fragments.

 

“…I was…slept…days…”

 

“…been depressed…medication…”

 

“…I don’t…anymore…maybe…stopped…”

 

“…see…therapist…”

 

“…uncomfortable…ask him…”

 

“…check…if…okay…awake…”

 

Suddenly, Matteo’s door was being pushed open and all he could do was stare blankly at the figure standing there. He blinked warily and the figure was by his side, a comforting hand on his arm.

 

“Hey, you’re awake.”

 

“Jonás?” His mouth was dry and his throat hurt from crying so much, so it came out as more of an unintelligible croak. Jonás seemed to understand though.

 

The hand rubbed up and down his arm, “ja, it’s me. Do you think you can sit up, maybe drink some water?”

 

Matteo nodded, letting Jonás pull his heavy limbs into a sitting position. His hands felt numb as he reached for the glass, and Jonás kept his own on it as he helped Matteo take a few sips. Despite how soothing it felt, the simple act of sitting up and swallowing was already making Matteo’s eyes heavy. He felt Jonás move from his side and he reached out with a heavy arm, brushing his fingers lazily against Jonás’ skin.

 

“Stay,” he whispered.

 

“Okay,” and Jonás’ weight was next to him on the bed again, helping him lay back down.

 

Matteo could feel his mind slipping again, seconds away from losing consciousness for the millionth time since the incident. Before he was fully gone, he reached out and gripped Jonás’ hand, squeezing it with as much strength as he could muster.

 

“‘m sorry,” he mumbled. “‘m really sorry.”

 

The hand squeezed back, and Jonás’ voice was closer than before. “It’s okay, Luigi, you don’t have to apologise. It’s okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jonás had been staying at the flat for a few days since Mia called him—none of them had left for more than 10 minutes, not wanting to leave Matteo alone. But today Hans had finally convinced him and Mia to go back to school–they had missed too much already. Matteo had finally gotten out of bed yesterday, though he had spent the majority of his time awake bundled up on the couch, being mother henned by Hans. Matteo had also agreed to talk to somebody professional, somebody who could help more than getting him blankets and making him food. So eventually, with a lot of convincing from both Hans and Matteo, Mia and Jonás were making their way to school.

 

“How much are we telling people,” Mia inquired when they were almost there. “Because Amira’s been texting me about Matteo’s biology work and she’s getting sick of my vague answers.”

 

Jonás nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “Just say that he’s not in a good place—mentally—and that he’s getting help and he’ll hopefully be okay soon.”

 

Mia smiled slightly, “keep me updated, ja?”

 

Jonás nodded, the two of them walking to their respective friend groups as soon as they got inside.

 

As soon as Jonás reached his locker Carlos and Abdi were on him, talking over one another as they demanded where he had been and where Matteo was. Jonás huffed in frustration, slamming his locker loudly, causing Abdi to jump.

 

“Both of you stop talking and I’ll explain.”

 

Carlos immediately shut up, slapping Abdi across the head when he went to open his mouth again.

 

Jonás sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “You guys know about Matteo’s history with depression and anxiety?”

 

At Abdi’s confused look, Jonás went on. “I mean, he’s never been diagnosed, but we all kind of know what it is. Anyway, he’s been in a bad place for a while now but then he met someone who made him happier than usual, but then something happened. This person that Matteo cared about _a lot_ said and did some things that really hurt him, and he kind of just spiraled.”

 

Carlos winced, “what happened? Is he okay?”

 

“He’s getting there,” Jonás nodded. “He’s not okay, not yet. He’s been sleeping for the past few days, Mia, Hans, and I have been with him the whole time. So, sorry for not answering any messages.”

 

Abdi shook his head, placing a hand on Jonás’ shoulder. “No, man, it’s okay we understand. He’s getting better though, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

 

Jonás let out a relieved breath, “ja, he’s actually going to see someone today—someone professional who can help, so we’ll see how that goes.”

 

“Do you think he’ll wanna see us?” Carlos asked.

 

“In a few days,” Jonás breathed out, feeling relief at his friends being chill about everything. “I’ll talk to him—he broke his phone though so he won’t be able to respond to your texts until he gets it fixed.”

 

“Just let him know we miss his face,” Abdi said. “And his memes.”

 

Jonás chuckled, shaking his head slightly, “will do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When school let out, Jonás went straight back to Matteo’s with Mia, groceries in hand, hoping that maybe Matteo would feel up to making Pasta a la Luigi sometime soon. Voices filtered in from the kitchen and Jonás couldn’t help his smile when he found Hans, Linn, and Matteo sitting at the kitchen table, whispering about who knew what.

 

“Luigi,” Jonás exclaimed. “Abdi told me to tell you he misses your memes.”

 

Matteo scoffed, though there was no hiding the small quirk of his lips. “Abdi hated my memes.”

 

Jonás shrugged as he made his way over to the others, sitting down next to Matteo, “doesn’t mean he can’t miss them.”

 

Hans slid over a half full plate of what looked like leftover beef cakes and Jonás took it gladly, taking note of the delighted smile Linn gave him.

 

“So,” Jonás started. “How’d it go?”

 

Matteo reached into his bag, producing an orange medium sized pill bottle, and shook it lightly in front of Jonás’ face. “They gave me crazy pills.”

 

Hans scoffed, ruffling Matteo’s hair, “clinical depression does not mean you’re crazy, butterfly.”

 

Matteo shrugged. “I know, but I like calling them ‘crazy pills.’”

 

Jonás chuckled lightly, taking the pill bottle to study it. “So that’s what they said it is—clinical depression?”

 

“Ja,” Matteo muttered, reverting back to his quiet spoken nature. “Had it since I was 14 apparently.”

 

Jonás winced, placing the bottle back down before Matteo. “Shit man, I’m sorry.”

 

Matteo shook his head, “nein, don’t be. It’s not your fault—or mine—it’s my dad’s mostly. He refused to believe it, drilled into me that it was just me being a teenager, that it was _normal_.”

 

“He sounds like an asshole,” Mia said as she entered the kitchen. “But you know we’re here for you, right?”

 

Jonás nodded, placing a comforting hand on Matteo’s shoulder and squeezing it to emphasise Mia’s point.

 

“I know,” Matteo whispered. “A-and thank you—for being here.”

 

Hans wrapped an arm around Matteo’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. “Where else would we be, butterfly?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys ask for more angst? No? Well, take this anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I wrote this whole thing while listening to the song Matteo and David kissed to on repeat. It’s ‘Untold’ by RY X and you should all go listen to it as well.

It was another week before Matteo went back to school.

 

Jonás had practically been living at the flat share since Mia called him that night, and Hans—surprisingly—hadn’t said anything or complained about it. To be fair, Hans had been hovering over Matteo like a protective mama bear that didn’t want to leave her cub alone, and while it had been unnerving at first, Matteo had grown rather fond of Hans’ fussing. (Not that he would ever admit it out loud). He didn’t complain when Hans made sure he had his medication (for the 3rd time), and when he double checked with Jonás to make sure he would remind Matteo to take it with lunch. He simply rolled his eyes and smiled when Hans hugged him like he was sending him off to war instead of school, and promised he would text or call during lunch just to get Hans to calm down.

 

Once Hans had finally let him leave the flat, he walked with Jonás—stuck close to him the entire way, fiddling with the bandage wrapped around his arm the closer they got to school. Jonás had assured him that everyone would be cool and that they’d be happy to see him again, and he believed him. Matteo knew that his friends would be happy to see him again, but it wasn’t them he was worried about. No, the closer he got to the school, the closer he was getting to Sara and David. Sara he could handle (on some level), but David…he didn’t even want to think about what would happen when ( _if_ ) he saw him. What if David has heard what happened and he thought Matteo was overreacting, that he was pathetic for getting so worked up about something that didn’t even matter? What if he got angry, saying Matteo was stupid for thinking the kissing and the cuddling and the entire day spent together meant more than just something casual? What if he said he was straight and just experimenting, that it was fun while it lasted but he liked Leonie anyway? The more Matteo thought about it, the tighter his grip grew on his bandaged arm, his nails digging through the white fabric and scratching against the scars in an almost comforting way.

 

Then there was a firm hand ripping his away from the bandage and Jonás was pulling him to the side just outside of the school. It wasn’t until then that Matteo realised he had started crying.

 

“Hey, hey,” Jonás said softly, still gripping his hand and keeping it away from his arm. “What’s wrong, why’d you do that?”

 

Matteo just shook his head, wiping away a few tears as he tried to stop crying and looking so pathetic—people were starting to stare. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I-I’m fine.”

 

Jonás’ hands were on his cheeks and Matteo was suddenly reminded how not even a month ago he would’ve killed to have Jonás touch him like that. Now though, he kept his eyes downcast, trying to stop the few tears that were still welling in his eyes.

 

“Matteo, listen, I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not even going to pretend to understand how you’re feeling.” Jonás’ voice was stern yet comforting, and Matteo slowly raised his eyes to meet his friend’s. “But you need to talk to me, man. Tell me when you aren’t feeling good or if you feel trapped or tired or just don’t even feel like doing anything. If you tell me these things, I can help you—I’ll _want to help you_ —but if you don’t, there’s nothing I can do. And that’ll only make us both feel worse, okay?”

 

Matteo nodded, pulling away from Jonás’ hands and wiping away the remaining tears. “Okay,” he whispered.

 

Jonás smiled sadly before pulling Matteo into a hug, and despite the way that a few people were looking at them, Matteo melted in his friends arms, hiding his face in Jonás’ shoulder and wrapping his own arms tightly around him. It felt nice, it felt _safe_ , something Matteo had longed to feel for a long time.

 

Jonás pulled back first, but stayed close, his arms on Matteo’s shoulders. “Now, what’s the matter? You stressed about seeing the boys again?”

 

“Nein,” Matteo mumbled, and at Jonás’ prompting look, he sighed. “It’s David—I just, I-I don’t know what I’ll do if I see him o-or what he’ll do and if he knows. Like, if he does will he get mad at me, or think I-I’m just pathetic, or if he doesn’t, will he just ignore me like we didn’t spend an entire day together cuddling a-and then go on a date together as well?”

 

Matteo’s breathing had picked up slightly and the tears he had just managed to push back had returned, but then Jonás was placing Matteo’s hand on his steadily beating heart and encouraging him to breathe and he did. He took in stuttering but helpful breaths, his fingers clenching the fabric of Jonás’ coat as he slowly calmed down. Once the roaring in his ears had died down and he could breathe without feeling like he was going to die, Matteo released Jonás’ coat with a quiet apology, his eyes travelling anywhere but Jonás’ face.

 

“You good now,” Jonás asked, receiving a timid nod in response. “Okay, Luigi listen, I can’t promise what he’ll think or say, but I can promise that he’s an asshole for doing this to you and that I won’t leave your side today if I don’t have to, ja? And you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to or aren’t ready—he hurt you, and I hate him for that, but there’s nothing you can do to change that. What you can change is the way you react to it—to _him_ —and how you handle the situation. You understand what I’m saying?”

 

Mateo nodded again, not saying a word or looking up at him.

 

“Hey,” Jonás tapped Matteo’s cheek lightly, the way Hans had _that night_ , and he looked up—albeit, hesitantly. “I won’t let him hurt you again, got it?”

 

Matteo smiled slightly, “ja, got it.”

 

 

 

Most of the day was a blur.

 

Carlos and Abdi had both practically jumped him when they saw him, resulting in the four boys ending up on the ground with dumbfounded and goofy grins. Hanna had hugged him tightly for a solid two minutes, constantly repeating how much she missed him and loved him—while Mia and Jonás looked on like proud parents. Matteo had even seen Sara from across the hall when he left to use the bathroom, and while she didn’t approach him, she did offer him a small smile and a wave. All in all, Matteo’s day was going pretty good (compared to how shitty he had felt yesterday). His teachers had all been sympathetic and helpful with work he missed, Hans had called him during lunch, the boys didn’t so much as give him a second glance when he had to take his medication, and for once he didn’t feel like he was drowning. (Amira had even taken notes for him in bio, and with a small pat on his shoulder reminded him how much he was loved). Not to mention, he hadn’t seen David all day, which was—surprisingly—perfectly fine with Matteo.

 

Of course, his luck wasn’t _that_ good.

 

Matteo had been waiting by his locker—awkwardly watching as people walked by while he waited for Jonás and Mia—when he saw David. His phone was still broken so he couldn’t block everyone out like he usually would, therefore he was forced to endure awkwardly (and accidentally) listening in on passing people’s conversations. He was so focused on two girls conversation about which Avenger was the hottest, that he didn’t see or hear the figure approaching him.

 

“Hi.”

 

Matteo froze. No, he didn’t want to hear that voice, he didn’t want to. He hadn’t heard it since their date on Thursday and he thought he wanted to hear it but he didn’t, he really didn’t. Matteo slowly turned, finding the familiar beautiful dark hair and dark eyes—dark eyes that were studying him with concern. Concern? What right did he have to be concerned, he sent that text message knowing full well how it would make Matteo feel.

 

“Uh, hey,” Matteo mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

 

David’s eyes tracked the hand, his frown growing as he noticed the bandage wrapped tightly around his arm. He reached out to touch it but Matteo flinched back, pulling his sleeve tightly over the arm and pulling it close to his chest.

 

“What happened,” David asked carefully. “Are you okay?”

 

“What do you care?” Matteo had meant for it to come out as strong, aggressive—instead, his voice shook and he sounded like a crying child.

 

David frowned, “what are you talking about?”

 

Matteo swallowed against the lump in his throat, forcing himself to look up and meet David’s piercing gaze. “Did it mean anything to you? Anything at all?”

 

David looked like he had been slapped, and Matteo would’ve felt bad about it if he didn’t already feel like he was on the verge of tears.

 

“Matteo…of course it did.”

 

Matteo didn’t notice the approaching footsteps, his sole focus on the genuine look on David’s face and the way his stomach churned with anger. “Then why send the text, huh? Why do that to me? What did _I_ do to deserve that?”

 

Matteo was breathing heavily and David had taken a step back, hugging his arms to his chest and eyeing Matteo wearily. “It’s not you, Matteo, I promise it’s not. It’s me.”

 

“That is so fucking cliche and you know it.”

 

“Listen, I–it’s complicated, okay?” David muttered, eyeing the trio standing a few feet away warily. “I just need to deal with some personal stuff first before I can fully commit to you, that’s all it is.”

 

Matteo sucked in a shuddering breath, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. (God, he was so emotional today). “Then why didn’t you just say that? I-instead of telling me t-to leave you alone, th-that you didn’t want anything to do with me? Do you know how much that fucking hurt?”

 

David’s eyes were glazed over and he looked like he was going to cry as well. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 

A bittersweet smile crossed Matteo’s face as he shook his head. “Okay, yeah, whatever. Whatever, I’m done, I’m just done.”

 

He turned to leave, immediately coming face to face with Jonás, Hanna, and Mia. Knowing there would likely be questions about what just happened, Matteo powered on past them, tears now falling in rapid succession down his face as he made a beeline for the school exit. He didn’t get very far before there was a hand on his shoulder turning him around and Jonás was there, Hanna and Mia not too far behind. He didn’t say anything, just pulled Matteo into another hug, (something they’d been doing a lot of lately). Matteo let him, burying his face in Jonás’

shoulder and letting out a quiet sob. (God, he hated these emotions, why did he have to be so emotional?) He ignored the small voice in his head telling him to stop being so vulnerable and tightened his hold on Jonás, his crying getting louder as he thought more and more about David and their conversation.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he knew it was Hanna. He could hear Mia close by mumbling about breathing and that it was going to be okay. He focused on that—on the soft hum of Mia’s voice and the comforting and grounding touches of Jonás and Hanna—hoping that it would calm down his racing heart.

 

It did, eventually, and when he finally let go of Jonás, Hanna was gripping his hand tightly and offering him an encouraging smile.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

 

Jonás shook his head. “Dude, stop apologising for getting upset. It’s okay to have emotions.”

 

Matteo nodded, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “Right, sorry—I mean…okay.”

 

Mia cautiously stepped forward. “Matteo, was that…”

 

“David,” he finished with a nod. “Ja, it was.”

 

“Shit bro,” Jonás muttered. “I knew he hurt you but that was…shit.”

 

Matteo shook his head, already regretting everything he’d said. “Nein, it’s not—I-I shouldn’t have said those things, he had his reasons, he said so.”

 

Hanna shook her head vehemently. “You had every right to say that and to be mad. Yes, maybe he does have his reasons but he still hurt you, so you also have a right to be upset.”

 

Matteo licked his lips nervously, he wasn’t used to everyone being able to read his emotions so easily.

 

“I miss him.”

 

It was Mia that hugged him this time. “Just give it some time, ja? It’ll get better, I promise.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Matteo’s phone was fixed but he wasn’t answering the messages. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to reach over and silence his phone, so he simply laid there, staring at the ceiling numbly as everyone else went on with their lives.

 

His psychologist said this would happen again, with his body adjusting to the new medication and everything, but he didn’t expect it to be so soon. He had complained about all these overwhelming emotions he’d been feeling due to his meds, but he’d rather feel those than nothing. He’d rather be embarrassed about crying in front of Jonás (again), rather than feel horrible for laying in his bed like the useless shit he was. Nobody was awake in the flat yet and there was a party last night so no one would be up for a while, so at least he had some time before he was disappointing his friends again. He wanted to believe that they cared, that they would be patient with him like they had been _that night_ , but the only thing going through his mind was how sick and tired they were of him and his problems.

 

Using the remaining strength he could muster, Matteo rolled over and buried himself in his blankets, falling asleep with a frown on his face.

  
  
  


Matteo woke to a hand softly shaking his shoulder, coaxing him from a peaceful sleep to a numbingly painful reality.

 

“Matteo, you need to wake up.” It was Hans.

 

He let out a slow breath, not moving from his position and keeping his eyes firmly closed. He didn’t want to wake up and deal with the weight of being conscious, why couldn’t he just go back to sleep? His dreams were so much more favorable to the real world.

 

“Matteo, please,” Hans begged. “Just long enough to eat something so you can take your pills, okay?”

 

Matteo blinked his eyes open slowly, painfully.

 

“I’m not hungry.” He was. In the back of his mind he knew he was, he just didn’t want to eat, to put in the effort.

 

“Matteo, please don’t make this difficult.”

 

Difficult. He was making things difficult for Hans, for everyone. That’s exactly what he _didn’t_ want to do. God, why did he fuck everything up?

 

“Okay,” he whispered, rolling over.

 

He didn’t know which took more effort; bringing the food to his mouth, or the act of chewing and swallowing. The food sat heavily in his stomach and once Hans left he didn’t go back to sleep, instead he simply stared at his blinds numbly. He felt sick, but he was too tired to do anything about it except burrow himself further into his bed.

 

He didn’t remember Jonás showing up, but he was suddenly there. He was vaguely aware of the way his friend had held his hair out of his eyes as he threw up, and the way he had helped him change his shirt. He didn’t think he had fallen asleep again, but he woke up on the other side of the bed, his head on Jonás’ chest and a fresh(ish) shirt on his back. Matteo glanced up, finding Jonás watching him with worry, his eyes downcast and his lips in a thin straight line. Matteo hated it—hated the way he was making his friends feel, hated how useless he was being, hated the fact that he was wasting everyone’s precious time with his problems. He hated the way Jonás’ hands soothingly ran through his hair as he silently cried into his friend’s chest, hated the tears that were also gathering in Jonás’ eyes at the site of how pathetic he was. He hated being this way, being himself. Hated the effect he had on everyone and everything. Why was he like this? Why did he have to be this way?

  
  


Matteo fell asleep listening to the steady beat of Jonás heart beneath him.

  
  


When he woke up he was alone.

 

His limbs were heavy, but not in the way they had been before, simply due to the fact that he had just woken up. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and reached for his phone, squinting against the brightness as he stared at the messages from yesterday and today.

  
  


**Hans:** Went out to get groceries, let me know if you want anything when you wake up.

 

 **Jonás:** Hey man, do you and the boys wanna hang today?

 

 **Carlos:** Did Jonás text you, are you free today?

 

 **Jonás:** Hans said you aren’t doing well, do you want me to come over?

 **Jonás:** I’m coming over.

 

 **Mia:** I’m making food if you want some. If not I’ll leave some on your shelf for later.

 

 **Hanna:** Hey Matteo, I love you. Text me when you’re feeling better, ja?

 

 **Jonás:** I left a couple hours ago, but text me when you can, okay?

  
  


Matteo sighed as he closed the messages. He would answer them, but later. He didn’t feel like dealing with an overbearing Jonás and Hanna at the moment—though he didn’t mind it when the two went all ‘overbearing married couple’ on him.

 

He made his way to the kitchen—the apartment seemed empty—and grabbed the food from the fridge Mia had made for him. He was almost halfway through when the door unlocked and Mia and Hans’ voices floated in from the front door. They both abruptly stopped when they reached the kitchen, staring at Matteo with different variations of surprise and happiness.

 

“Good morning,” Matteo waved awkwardly.

 

Mia snorted. “It’s 4 in the afternoon.”

 

Matteo shrugged, offering the two a small smile as he took another bite out his food.

 

“I’m glad to see you’re up, butterfly.” Hans said as he sat down beside Matteo, giving him a small side hug.

 

Matteo nodded, offering another small smile. Yes, he was up and walking around, but he still didn’t really feel like doing much socialising.

 

“You really do have a way with words, don’t you?” Mia joked, sitting down on his other side with her own plate of food.

 

Matteo bit his lip nervously, staring down at his plate. “Sorry…about _that_.”

 

“Hey,” Hans took his hand in his own. “You don’t get to apologise for that, okay? It’s out of your control and we don’t mind helping you, it’s what we’re here for.”

 

Mia took his other hand, “when I was dealing with my own shit last year, I tried to push everyone away. Trust me, Matteo, it didn’t help. When you feel this way, don’t feel bad when we want to help, okay? Don’t think us seeing you like this will make us leave, because it won’t, I promise.”

 

A more genuine smile crossed his face now and he nodded honestly at them. “Okay.”

  
  


**Matteo:** Hey, thanks for being there for me. Maybe we can hang tomorrow if that’s cool with you.

 

 **Jonás:** Of course, bro. I’ll always be there for you.

 **Jonás:** I’m free anytime, just ask.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Low key based the second half of this off of my first experience with a depressive episode.
> 
> Also, I’m gonna make next chapter happier so don’t worry!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but I had MAJOR writers block and I just couldn’t figure out how to go about this. I actually ended up writing most of this during my theatre class. 
> 
> But enjoy this angsty and wholesome chapter!!

 

“How the fuck did  _ you  _ pass Abi?” Carlos inquired jokingly. “You were high half the time you attended class, and that was when you actually showed up.” 

 

Jonás threw a pillow at Carlos’ face as Matteo chuckled from the corner of the couch he was curled up in. 

 

“It’s called cheating, Carlos.”

 

Carlos snorted, “ah, right your infamous little cheat sheets.”

 

“They’re really helpful,” Abdi butted in. “Really, you should try them one day, Carlos.”

 

Carlos’ focus went back to the TV, a tiny smile on the corner of his lips. “Nah, I’m good, I actually passed fairly.”

 

Matteo hugged a cushion close to his chest, pushing himself further into the corner of the couch. It was still kind of weird hanging with boys after everything had been brought to light, but it was getting easier. Not to mention, they didn’t talk about girls all the time anymore, so that was an added bonus that suited Matteo just fine.

 

“I’m actually putting in the effort now,” Matteo mumbled awkwardly. “Every time I start to zone out while studying for biology, Amira hits me with her notebook, so that’s helpful.” 

 

Jonás laughed lightly, “I’m sure Amira would hit us all over the head with a book if she could.” 

 

“Oh she could,” Carlos said seriously. “She just has that much self control.” 

 

Abdi shook his head slowly. “She still scares me, man.” 

 

“She scares everyone,” Matteo huffed out a small laugh. “It’s kind of her thing.” 

 

The boys’ focus went back to the TV and Matteo pursed his lips together, eyes traveling back to his phone as he opened up the messages between him and David again. The message from weeks ago was there, though Matteo didn’t even have to read it to know what it said. Directly below it though was a new message, a message sent a day after Matteo’s outburst at school. 

 

**David:** I’m sorry. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.

**David:** Just know that I’m not leaving, and I’ll be ready to explain as well.

 

Matteo still hadn’t responded. Had simply stared at the message every day since it had been sent, imagining scenarios in his mind where they talked instead of Matteo simply screaming at David and then breaking down after. Most of the scenarios ended with David leaving, because no matter how much Matteo tried to see the good in things his mind just didn’t want to. In Matteo’s mind he was destined to be alone (as cliche as it sounded). 

 

“Dude, you good?” 

 

Matteo was pulled from his thoughts and phone by Jonas’ voice—only to find that the TV had been shut off and all three boys were staring at him. 

 

“What?” His voice was muffled as he buried his face into a cushion. 

 

“We asked if you were okay,” Carlos supplied carefully. “You were kind of...just staring sadly at your phone.”

 

Matteo sighed, handing his phone to Jonas to show them the messages—he hadn’t told them about David texting him, he hadn’t talked about David at all after his breakdown at school actually. Jonas had been the one to fill Carlos and Abdi in while Matteo had curled up on his bed, his head resting on Jonas’ leg as he hid his face from the boys. Now the three eagerly read the new messages, Carlos letting out a long sigh as he stared up at Matteo. 

 

“Have you talked to him?” 

 

Matteo shook his head, taking his phone back from Jonas’ outstretched hand and shoving it into his pockets—he didn’t want to look at it anymore.

 

“He’s been liking my posts on Instagram,” Matteo mumbled, letting out a long breath. “And he’s been posting these drawings that I  _ think  _ have some kind of underlying message. I don’t know though, maybe I’m just reading into things.” 

 

“Do you miss him?” Abdi asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Matteo breathed. “A lot.” 

 

Jonas moved from the floor and next to Matteo on the couch, pulling the pillow away from his face so he couldn’t hide. 

 

“Dude, I know it didn’t go well last time, but maybe you should talk to him.” 

 

Carlos and Abdi nodded in agreement. 

 

“Tell him how you feel, how  _ he made  _ you feel and just, I don’t know, lay down the rules,” Jonas stated firmly. “Like…what you expect or want from the relationship and that he needs to be honest with you and tell you if he actually feels the same way and explain why he left.” 

 

Matteo knew he was right, knew it was the best thing to do for both him  _ and  _ David. It would give them both closure, and perhaps,  _ maybe _ , they’d end up being happy together again. Nevertheless…

 

“What if he leaves again,” Matteo whispered brokenly.

 

Jonas’ arm was suddenly around Matteo, something the boy was grateful for as he leaned into the touch gladly by resting his head on Jonas’ shoulder.

 

Abdi was the one who spoke up in response to Matteo’s thoughts. “Then he’s a tasteless asshole who doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

 

Matteo shook his head, leaning further into Jonas’ embrace. Despite how fucking heartbroken David had left him, Matteo could never hate him. Even if he did leave again, Matteo wouldn’t hold anything against him. It wouldn’t be a new experience—everyone left him eventually.

 

“Listen,” Carlos began, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands. “I hate to be the one to say it, but, if he does leave or it doesn’t work out…then you’re gonna have to move on—forget about him.” 

 

Matteo didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t. He really didn’t want to. He couldn’t imagine a life where he didn’t know David, it wasn’t a good life. And while everything was shitty at the moment as well, at least he’d had a short period of time where everything just felt so  _ right _ , where  _ David  _ felt right. So, Matteo bit his lip and swallowed past the lump in his throat as he ignored the possibility of forgetting about David. 

 

“Hey, listen,” Jonas jostled Matteo’s shoulders to grab his attention again. “We can help you find a new guy.” 

 

Matteo couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “Seriously? You guys would help me get a boyfriend—you barely have any game when it comes to girls, how are you gonna be helpful with guys?” 

 

Abdi let out a loud cackle as Jonas slapped him playfully on the side of the head. 

 

“Ouch, Luigi,” Carlos chuckled. “You really know how to hit someone where it hurts.” 

 

Matteo simply shrugged, the small smile still playing at his lips. This was nice, this was the kind of things he wanted to do when he hung out with his friends—it was fun and distracted Matteo from his thoughts. It was yet another small thing that reminded him that things were going to be okay in the long run. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Matteo:** Hey, maybe we can talk tomorrow if you’re free. 

 

**David:** Yeah that works for me. 

 

**Matteo:** Meet at the park at 3?

 

**David:** Sounds good. 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

To say Matteo was nervous would be an understatement. 

He was fucking terrified. The last time him and David has spoken hadn’t gone over too well, and the longer he sat alone on the park bench waiting, the more anxious he got. He played absentmindedly with the hem of his hoodie, biting down on his lip as he pulled the sleeve up to stare at the slowly fading scars on his forearm. Matteo still couldn’t fully comprehend what he had done that night. He knew what happened and why, but he was barely aware of anything that happened through his own eyes, it was almost as if he had watched himself do it from afar and only came back to his body once it was too late to undo the damage. He shook his head as he pulled the sleeve back down, pushing the memories to the back of his mind. He’d think about it when he had to, talk about it with his therapist even (they hadn’t talked about that night much), but now wasn’t the best time for dark memories to surface. Now he had to focus on not yelling and screaming or simply jumping and kissing David the minute he showed up.

He wiped his hands anxiously on his jeans, pulling his phone out and checking it again for the millionth time. He smiled slightly at Jonas and Hanna’s encouraging texts, absentmindedly wondering when the two were going to come back to their senses and get back together, before shoving it back into his pocket. He picked up the sound of approaching footsteps and, like every other time, immediately looked to that direction. However, this time, instead of being disappointed with the random stranger walking by, Matteo’s breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on familiar dark hair, dark eyes, and perfect lips. 

“Hey, na,” David greeted as he stopped awkwardly by the bench Matteo was seated at. 

“Hey,” Matteo swallowed thickly, gaze nervously flitting to his lap.

David looked good. He was in his signature black hoodie but today it was more endearing for some reason. His skin almost seemed to glow and his eyes held that familiar sparkle that Matteo had grown to love. His hair was extra fluffy and Matteo’s breath hitched as he recalled the time he had run his hands through that perfect hair, his lazy eyes glued to David as they both absentmindedly touched each other, neither wanting to break the contact. Now, though, that hair was untouchable. Matteo knew that as David cleared his throat while awkwardly rocking back on forth on the heels of his feet.  _ Shit,  _ he thought.  _ He had been staring.  _ Training his eyes back to his lap, Matteo scooted over and awkwardly patted the empty space next to him—a silent invitation for David to sit. When he felt David’s presence beside him, Matteo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Uh,” David began quietly, his voice unsure. “I don’t know how you want to do this—do you want to continue from our last conversation or…” 

Matteo could tell David was trying to keep it light, trying to let Matteo see some humour in it. And while he was appreciative of that, he also couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at him as he recalled their last conversation. 

“S-sorry about that,” he mumbled unsurely. “The yelling, I mean.” 

“Don’t be,” Matteo could see David shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “I hurt you without an explanation, you had every right.” 

Matteo nodded as wrung his hands together, “yeah,” it was whispered quietly but David heard. 

David twisted in his seat so he was facing Matteo more, the latter nervously raising his head to look at him. “Uh, Sara told me what happened,” he nodded at Matteo’s arm. “W-was it…” 

The unasked question hung in the air between them and Matteo couldn’t help the humourless quirk of his lips. 

“Your fault?” This drew a sharp breath from David, but Matteo went on. “No, no it wasn’t…well, partly it was, but it was also Sara’s and my friends’ and everything else good in my life that I fuck up.” He paused, taking a stuttering breath. “But it was mostly me. I had been unhappy for so long, b-but it was more than just being sad. I was just kind of numb to everything, I’d go through these different moods ranging from overwhelming sadness, to anger, to just…nothing. And I  _ thought  _ I could ignore it, or that it was normal—but then I met you.”

David was rigid beside him and Matteo was quick to reach out and squeeze his hand. Because despite how much David leaving had hurt, Matteo didn’t want him to feel like it was his fault. David squeezed back and Matteo was grateful he didn’t pull away—he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep talking if he had. 

“Everything felt…okay,” Matteo breathed out. “You know, I felt _good_ for once, like maybe not everything in my life was so fucked, for once I was happy and smiling and it was easier to get out of bed—and I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, because it’s _not_ your fault. I genuinely thought everything was getting better, but I was just distracted, I was pushing everything back and focusing entirely on you because you made me feel good. So, when everything with Sara happened, and then you left, I kind of just…lost it.” 

Matteo was barely aware of the fact that he was crying, only registering it when he saw a few tears drop into his jeans. He let out a humourless laugh as he wiped at his eyes, leaning forward to try and hide his face. 

“So, I’m sorry that I yelled at you like that in front of everyone. I was just stressed and pissed and going through all these emotions because of my new meds, and I just—I’m sorry.” 

It was silent for a while, the only sounds being Matteo’s sniffles every now and then and David’s breathing. Then David’s hand was gripping his again and it was suddenly a lot easier to breathe. 

“I’m so sorry, Matteo,” David spoke hesitantly, like he was afraid of his own words. “If I had known how this would’ve affected you I–I—”

Matteo let out a weak laugh, “wouldn’t have left?”

David shook his head and for the first time that day it was Matteo looking directly at him while he turned away. 

“I would’ve explained, I would’ve told you what I’ve been so fucking afraid to tell you since the day we met.” David’s voice was a broken whisper and Matteo’s chest tightened as he thought about what horrible thing could be eating David up inside like this. 

“Before I tell you this I need you to know that when I said it wasn’t you it was me, that wasn’t just a line, it’s true.” David paused, breathing in deeply. “All of this could’ve been prevented if I wasn’t so scared to tell you—I mean, I promised myself I wouldn’t get attached enough to  _ anybody _ for me to have to have this conversation, but I mean, how could anyone not get attached to you?” Matteo’s eyes watered as he smiled sadly at David’s small quirk of his lips. 

David turned to him then, gripping his hand tighter with both of his own. “Matteo, I need you to know before I tell you this that I like you  _ so much _ , okay? I really really like you and I don’t want to ruin this, I don’t want to run away anymore, but I can’t promise that you won’t after I tell you the truth.” 

Matteo met David’s eyes and wasn’t surprised to find tears in them. “I won’t leave.” He punctuated each word, not breaking eye contact in an effort to convey the message. 

David shook his head, his eyes dropping down to their intertwined hands. “You can’t promise that.”

Matteo leaned forward, his forehead just barely touching David’s, “I won’t leave if you don’t.” 

David let out a slow breath and released Matteo’s hand, though he didn’t move any farther away. He stared intently at the ground and let out a few more slow breaths. When he started talking, he refused to look at Matteo. 

“When, uh, when I was born…I was—” he paused, licking his lips and balling his hands into fists. “I was born in the body of a girl.” 

Matteo frowned, cocking his head to the side as he tried to understand what David was saying. 

“I’m…I’m transgender.” 

Matteo stared blankly at David for a moment before realisation crossed his face, limited knowledge of what the word meant and a mutual friend of his mom being transgender crossed his mind. He didn’t know what his expression was like, but he supposed it didn’t look good because David made to stand up, his expression closed off. 

“I-I can leave if you want.” 

Matteo was quick to grip at David’s hands again, pulling him back down on the seat with a raw desperation he hadn’t let himself show anybody in a while. 

“No, stay,” he said frantically. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t…I don’t really know much about this kind of stuff.” 

David nodded, but he stayed silent, his hands hanging limply in Matteo’s grip as he stared intently at the boy before him. 

Matteo cleared his throat awkwardly (he really didn’t know how to do this kind of thing). “So, you were born as a girl but—”

“I’m a boy,” David cut in, and Matteo was glad—he didn’t want to accidentally say anything that could be offensive. “I just have to try a bit harder.” 

Matteo nodded dumbly—he didn’t know what he was supposed to say or do in this situation. He barely knew anything about his own sexuality and his mind was currently going into overdrive because he loved this boy before him but he didn’t want to say or do anything wrong. 

“You want to leave, don’t you?” 

David’s broken voice tore him from his thoughts and Matteo was quick to try and assure him that nothing was wrong, he was just stupid and confused. 

“No! No, I-I don’t. I just…I’m sorry, I don’t know the right thing to say to this, I mean I barely know anything about the LGBT community and I-I don’t want to fuck this up,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts rationally. “This doesn’t have to change anything—u-unless you want it to then it can but I don’t—uh, fuck—” Matteo let out a slow breath, his eyes darting down to their hands rather than David’s confused face. “I’m gay and you’re a guy that I really really like, you just…have to try harder, like you said. And I-I don’t know much about this stuff but maybe you can—only if you want to—teach me along the way…Look, all I know is that I want to be with you, and I won’t leave you unless you leave me.” 

David was crying now—silent and heartbreaking. Matteo reached out to tentatively wipe the tears from his cheeks, his palm settling gently there as David let out a wet and relieved laugh. 

“You’re not leaving.” 

Matteo shook his head, smiling sadly as he let his own tears fall. “I’m not leaving.” 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Matteo had missed this. Lying beside David, being able to touch him and just hold him whenever he wanted to. He couldn’t help but smile lovingly at the boy that was sleeping soundly before him, running a tentative hand through his hair so as not to wake him, tracing his jaw line with feather light fingers, and kissing the tip of his nose before pulling away slightly. He continued to smile down at David even as he got up slowly from the bed, quietly making his way to the door and closing it as gently as he could once he was in the hall. He was the only one in the flat so he put on his headphones and set to work making Pasta a la Luigi—not only did Jonas want some sometime soon, but Matteo had also promised David his ‘famous pasta.’ It felt nice knowing David was just in other room, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders because he knew David wouldn’t run this time, not after their promise. Through happy tears, firm kisses, and light touches they had promised the other that they wouldn’t leave, not ever. And despite Matteo’s history full of broken promises followed by broken hearts, he believed David with every fibre in his body. He wouldn’t leave—he  _ couldn’t _ , because if he did Matteo didn’t know what he’d do—

Matteo’s thoughts were cut off by hands gently removing his headphones and then wrapping around his waist. Matteo smiled warmly, leaning into the familiar touch as David rested his chin on Matteo’s shoulder. 

“What are we making?” He mumbled, voice adorably heavy with sleep. 

Matteo chuckled as he turned around to face David, planting a small kiss on his lips before guiding him to the dining table. 

“ _ I  _ am making Pasta a la Luigi,” he paused, kissing the top of David’s forehead for good measure. “And  _ you  _ are sitting over here so you don’t mess it up.” 

“Are you implying that I can’t cook?” David’s tone was playful, though it was funnier to Matteo due to the fact that David still looked half asleep. 

Smiling over his shoulder, Matteo went back to making the tomato sauce. “That’s exactly what I’m implying.” 

“Rude,” David muttered. 

“Hm, you’ll get over it.” 

Matteo continued on quietly, reveling in David’s continuous gaze on him. Every now and then he’d look over to find David staring up at him with such a morbid curiosity that Matteo couldn’t help the small blush that coated his cheeks as he smiled shyly back at him. At some point David had turned on some music and the two boys found themselves jokingly twirling each other around the kitchen, dissolving into hysterical laughter the minute one of them messed up. By the time the pasta was done and cooling down, the pair were leaning up against the kitchen counter, bodies practically intertwined as they lazily swayed to the millionth Hozier song that played. Matteo was in the middle of lazily kissing David’s perfect lips, matching giddy smiles on both their faces, when the front door opened and Mia, Hanna, and Jonas suddenly appeared in the kitchen entryway.

Jonas, forever the romantic, clapped his hands together (startling the couple in the kitchen) excitedly. “Ooh! You made Pasta a la Luigi!” 

Matteo, cheeks red and hot from embarrassment, jokingly slapped Jonas’ hand away from the pasta bowl. “Yeah, but David’s never had it before so don’t eat it all, you heathen.”

“Ah, so  _ this  _ is David,” Jonas feigned surprise and it took everything in Matteo not to hit him over the head. “Nice to finally put a face to the name.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jonas gasped loudly, taking a deliberate step back from Matteo. “Luigi! You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” 

“Sadly, yes,” David answered, earning a middle finger from Matteo and even more laughter from Jonas.

“I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now,” Matteo made his way over to the girls, an exaggerated pout on his face. “You guys still love me, right?” 

“Awe, Teo, of course we do,” Hanna crooned as both her and Mia wrapped him up in a hug. 

Matteo childishly stuck his tongue out at Jonas and David as they stared at the trio in amusement.

Jonas shrugged, gathering the giant bowl of pasta in his arms. “Guess that means more pasta for me.” 

Without moving from the girls’ hug Matteo, in all seriousness, spit out, “if you fucking touch my pasta, Jonas, I will kill you slowly and painfully.” 

Jonas immediately handed the bowl to David, his arms raised in surrender. “Damn, Luigi, chill,” he turned to David who was watching the exchange with an endearing smile on his lips. “You gotta control your boyfriend, man.” 

David shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. “I try, but it’s not easy.” 

Matteo glared at him, “just shut up and eat your pasta.” 

“Oh so he’s allowed pasta but I’m not?” Jonas exclaimed. “This is an outrage.” 

“It’s because I like him more than you.” Matteo responded simply, detaching himself from the girls and crossing back over to David to kiss him firmly on the cheek and wrap an arm around him. 

“Holy shit,” Jonas whispered as he wiped fake tears from his eyes. “I’ve been replaced.” 

Matteo grinned widely as Jonas pretended to sob into Hanna’s shoulder, the latter wrapping her arms around him with an amused smile. His grin grew softer as he leaned into David’s touch and caught Mia’s knowing smile, the one that told him ‘this was good—he was good.’ He stared at the scene before him, reveled in the closeness of him and his boyfriend ( _ boyfriend,  _ he still couldn’t believe it), and Matteo knew that eventually everything was going to turn out okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending is really shit and really rushed, so I apologise for that. But yeah, so that’s the end! I hope you guys enjoyed it, please leave some feedback about what you thought. 
> 
> ALSO; me being me, I started another fic, I haven’t posted it yet but it’s basically a “friends to lovers” Davenzi story. I’ve just started, but let me know if you’d want to read something like that!! 
> 
> Love you all, and thanks SO MUCH for the support on this fic!!

**Author's Note:**

> Probably going to add more chapters, I don’t know yet but let me know what you thought!!


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